


Past and Present

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Angst, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Murder, Self-Loathing, Tumblr Prompt, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr prompt - Aaron thinks of what Jackson might say about his relationship with Robert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past and Present

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - Hopefully this isn't too angsty (though it certainly could get VERY angsty), but Aaron thinking about what Jackson would say about him and Robert?

Aaron handed the small group of photos to Brenda as she handed him his bacon butty.

“They’re from Hazel,” he said, almost apologetically, knowing he might not have bothered bothering Brenda about Bob at the moment if Hazel hadn’t underlined it three times in her letter. 

They were of Bob’s kids, on a day Bob and Hazel had taken them to the park for a music festival. 

“Oh…they’re very nice,” Brenda replied with her best fake smile, only genuine when she saw Cathy and Heath. “I’ll make sure Bob gets them…when I get around to it.”

He nodded before sitting down to eat his breakfast and sip a stale coffee. 

She’d included some other photos she said she’d found in an old suitcase…Hazel kissing him on the cheek as Jackson laughed in the background…Jackson about 15 and on a motorbike…and one of Jackson, looking like he had when Aaron had first met him, staring straight into the camera. No frown, no smile. Just blank judgment.

It was like Jackson was talking to him from…wherever he was now.

And he didn’t have anything good to say.

Once Aaron got to work at the garage, he tried to forget about it, but he never really forgot about Jackson. A spanner and axle grease wasn’t going to make it any easier. 

He’d been so ashamed any time Jackson had touched him; it was only in the last weeks before…the…the accident that he’d let Jackson inside him without feeling like he’d get broken into pieces. Jackson had just wanted to love him, but whether it was with words or hands or cock, Aaron had rejected at every turn.

Robert…Robert had done everything to Aaron, with Aaron. Not just in bed, but all the nasty things he’d said, all the people they’d hurt, they’d…killed.

He’d let Robert break him until nothing could ever put him back together. 

Or maybe he’d been like that all along. Maybe that’s why Robert had wanted him, found him. They were as rotten as each other. 

Jackson had wanted him to be good, and Aaron had tried, but he knew that was for Jackson. What Jackson wanted, deserved. 

He couldn’t do it for anyone else. And he’d only done it for Jackson because he’d put him on a fucking railroad track.

Even now, he was in his room, staring at those gorgeous blue eyes, saying, in a choked voice, “I’m sorry.”

He was sorry because he’d given Robert everything he could never give Jackson, and all he’d gotten in return was a fresh set of scars.

He was sorry because they’d hurt - _killed_  - people, and with each passing day Aaron was struggling to care, to feel, anything at all about the damage they’d caused.

He was sorry because he knew Robert was what he deserved, that Jackson had always been too good for him, and he knew how much it would break Jackson’s heart to hear him say it, because Jackson had died believing the best in Aaron. 

He was sorry because he was making Jackson into a martyr, into some little god on his shoulder, and every time he did he forgot more of the decent, ordinary bloke who liked to drink a few cans and watch the footie, who lost his temper and swore a blue streak and hated his dad and got sick of his mum.

He was sorry because he was sick of being sorry, sick of the way people looked at him and judged him, barely able to be around his family anymore because of it, and he knew if Jackson was actually around, Aaron would probably see him the same way.

Aaron put the photo down on his desk, the one he used to do the paperwork for the scrapyard…when he’d actually had a scrapyard. 

He liked it better now, with the photo. Have to find a frame for it, but it could wait.

“Love ya,” he said to the picture, staring a minute before he went for a nap. 

It didn’t say anything back, but Aaron liked it better that way.

Anyone who actually said it to him was just lying anyway.


End file.
